


Trap

by Luninarie



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Kaer Morhen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Winter At Kaer Morhen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28930269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luninarie/pseuds/Luninarie
Summary: Jaskier had complaints about Kaer Morhen, but he was mostly suffering from the cold.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66
Collections: MaMooRoo BIKM Bingo





	Trap

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Piège](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041812) by [Luninarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luninarie/pseuds/Luninarie)



> For the BiKM Bingo (January 2021)  
> Prompt: Trap

Kaer Morhen was a trap set for the poor, naive and easily influenced bards.

The fortress dangled its thousand-year-old history, its majestic grandeur and its magnificent panoramas. The old lady on the rock promised incredible stories, god-defying spells and heroic feats. She was seductive, perched on her stone pedestal, in her setting of pine trees and birches, overlooking the silver river that meandered through the valley.

Yes, Kaer Morhen was magnificent.

But Kaer Morhen was not telling the whole truth. She was cheating. She was lying to the poor, naive and easily influenced bards. Jaskier had planned to make a list of his complaints and to leave it in Vesemir's room. He had even started to write it.

  1. I do not know who is responsible for maintaining the access roads, but consideration should be given to filling the ditches, installing guardrails and marking the route.
  2. Air currents. Seriously. There are holes in the walls. Bard-sized holes.
  3. Optional panes on the windows are only pertinent during the summer in Toussaint.
  4. Gothic aesthetic with bloodstains and torture instruments, isn’t that a bit...? I have reservations.
  5. Air currents. For real.



Lambert had read his list over his shoulder, barked a big surprised laugh, slapped Jaskier on the shoulder, and walked away with a sneer. The bard had understood that his grievances would not be taken seriously.

Over the weeks, willy-nilly, the young man got used to the constraints of his stay in Kaer Morhen. For the horrifying ambience of some of the abandoned rooms, there was unfortunately not much to do. Jaskier put aside his desire for exploration, settling for the library, a magnificent collection of books and poetry.

Against the cold, Jaskier found trunks of clothing spared by moths, treasures of fabrics and furs with which he recreated a winter wardrobe. He was failing to be at the forefront of fashion, but that allowed him to keep all of his toes intact. These textile ramparts worked for the day, but at night…

In his room, despite the fire that a good soul regularly kept going, Jaskier constantly shivered. The multitude of furs piled high on his sheets did not matter. The tremors that shook him kept him awake. He would eventually fall asleep, exhausted, but would then wake up with a sore body and a tired mind.

The witchers of the Wolf School worried, finding his sparkling gaze dull and absent. For the first few days, Jaskier dared not complain, thinking he would eventually get used to the freezing temperatures of the fortress. After two weeks of too short and too cold nights, the bard was dreaming of tying a hammock directly over his fireplace.

When it was time to go to bed, Jaskier went to his room dragging his feet. He washed briefly, changed his clothes with spectacular speed and hastened to snuggle up between the frozen sheets. He was preparing himself for another night of misery, but his shivering was interrupted by the creaking of the door, opening on a familiar face.

“Lambert?”, whispered Jaskier.

“Make room, nightingale.” Too surprised to protest, the bard obeyed, reluctantly leaving the place he had barely started to warm in the bed, and shifted away. In the orange glow of the fireplace blaze, he saw the young witcher taking off his clothes before reaching the bed and slipping between the sheets.

Jaskier, utterly flabbergasted, felt himself pulled and drawn straight against a warm, muscular body, a gentle furnace which made him moan with contentment. A mocking laugh answered him.

"You didn't mark that on your list", Lambert remarked after a few minutes.

The bard shrugged, embarrassed, still incredulous as he enjoyed the solid, powerful lines of a handsome man against him.

“Thank you”, he mumbled, his cheeks flushed.

“I wasn't going to let you freeze to death.” They were silent for a moment.

"Sleep," Lambert whispered. “We'll talk tomorrow. If you want to.” Finding a little courage, Jaskier kissed the corner of Lambert's jaw. Then, with a soft smile on his face, he closed his eyes and blissfully fell asleep.


End file.
